Burnt Cigarette
by Saint Mirror
Summary: Speirs has a chat with Easy Company's medic one night in Bastogne and gains some insight into Nixon's excessive drinking.


Disclaimer: Don't own; will NEVER own

Burnt Cigarette

Speirs often wondered why Nixon drank so much. He thought, at first, it was because he loved to drink, but if that were the case, wouldn't he exercise a little control when around those of superior rank like Lieutenant Colonel Strayer and Colonel Sink? No, Speirs knew that, love of alcohol included, there had to be another reason.

It had taken Speirs a while to come by this conclusion, but his real epiphany came one snowy night in the middle of their stay in Bastogne. He'd been making his rounds; smoking a cigarette and trying to look less cold than he actually was. Between the foxhole Doc Roe was huddled shaking in, Captain Nixon's foxhole had been hacked out of the frozen earth, the tarp flung back on itself instead of tightly shutting the cold out as he usually saw it, and instead of one helmet huddled shivering in the hole as he might usually have seen, there were two helmets fused together by ice and snow. Though he had a good guess as to who was keeping Nixon company, Speirs still left his path to peer in and so wasn't too surprised to see Captain Winters huddled next to who everyone knew was his best friend.

"They look so peaceful don't they?" Speirs started slightly and turned to see Doc Roe peering over the edge of his foxhole blearily. Speirs stared incredulously at the medic who merely shrugged and nodded at the sleeping soldiers. Their faces were pinched with cold; both of them huddled under two too thin blankets and shvering madly as their bodies tried to retain some warmth. If anything, they looked more miserable sleeping than they did awake. Speirs said as much to the medic who laughed lowly and without humor.

"At least they have each other..." Speirs took a long drag on his cigarette and gazed thoughtfully at Easy Company's medic, exhaling as he thought. Speirs, being in Dog Company, didn't know Roe very well, but something told him that this wasn't normal behavior for the man. He wondered what to do because even from this distance he could see evidence of battle fatigue shining in the doctor's eyes.

"Ron…you look cold…" Speirs slowly turned to stare at the other man, his eyes unreadable beneath the shadows of his helmet and the cigarette clinging percariously to his lower lip,more surprised at the fact that the quiet medic from Easy Company even knew his name than at the random question though its very randomness finally spurred him to action. Speirs stood and approached the smiling medic.

Slowly he crouched down and stared into Roe's dark eyes. Yes, he could see it hiding somewhere far back in his eyes: battle fatigue and the madness that sometimes comes with it. Ponderously he took anothr drag on his already half gone cigarette and wondered what he should say to pull him back from the hell he could see flaming in the medic's eyes. He knew Easy Company couldn't afford to lose their medic to this because there would be no replacing him if he lost it.

"I know why Captain Nixon drinks so much." The question startled Speirs so much he sat down in the snow next to Doc Roe's foxhole heedless of the wet snow seeping into the fabric of his pants. Roe grinned slightly and nodded, amused that he'd been able to do what most of the men said was impossible.

"Oh? And why is that?" Speirs said once he'd regained his crouched position painfully aware of the cold area that had formed on the back of his pants. Roe snorted in greater amusement and shifted in his foxhole.

"Come sit down here so your ass doesn't freeze solid, and I'll tell you." Glaring slightly, Speirs complied and slid into the space Roe had made for him. After a few awkward moments in which only the wind whispered, Roe spoke.

"I know why Nix drinks so much." He paused and glanced at Speirs who just stared back at him expressionlessly. Roe shrugged and continued. "He drinks so much so he doesn't end up like me." Speirs frowned slightly.

"And what's wrong with you?" Roe laughed a little at the cautious question.

"You think I don't know that I'm so close to battle fatigue that I can taste it on my tongue every second we're here? I know. Hell you're not even in the same company as me and saw it the first time you got a good look at me, so don't you think I'd be able to recognize it in someone else?" Roe locked eyes with Speirs whose frown deepened.

"So...Captain Nixon drinks so much because he's trying to...what...fend it off by being perpetually drunk?" Eugene shook his head at Ron's disbelief, but he couldn't blame him because he'd thought the same thing when he'd finally figured it out. It made no sense to those not in danger of losing it.

"I know...makes no sense, but it's the truth." He grinned at Ron. "We who are on the edge will do anything to keep from going off it." Speirs cocked his head.

"And what do you do...?" Roe grinned at Speirs as he trailed off. He shifted to get closer to the Lieutenant who seemed to be the warmest thing in the whole of Bastogne.

"Eugene. I pray...a lot." Speirs snorted at him and turned his head to stare at the snowy forest surrounding them.

"And does it help...Eugene?" Roe leaned against the edge of his foxhole and sighed.

"It depends." Speirs' head cocked but he didn't turn around.

"On what?" Roe pulled his helmet down to cover his eyes.

"On if I'm alone or not." Roe could barely see Speirs' breath billow out in front of him indicating a huge, silent sigh. Quiet muffled minutes passed by.

"Are you praying now?" Roe lifted his helmet just enough to see Speirs staring intently at him. He shrugged heavily.

"No, but I will be." Speirs turned to look at the tarp covering Nix's foxhole and suddenly snorted.

"My cigarette's gone...no wonder my fingers were so warm. Damn that was my last one too." Roe started laughing quietly and reached for his medic bag. Finding what he sought, he tapped Speirs on the shoulder and held up a pack of cigarettes.

"Here...take these. I've got more in my bag." He pressed the slightly crumpled pack into Speirs' cold fingers.

Speirs stood, shaking the snow that had accumulated on himself and Roe's blanket off, and climbed out of the foxhole. Roe shifted back into his previous position and let his helmet fall back over his eyes.

"Thanks." Eugene looked up to see Speirs standing over him with an unreadable expression. He grinned and settled down to sleep.

"No problem, sir." Speirs snorted again and resumed his patrol lighting a cigarette as he went. Easy Company had the weirdest damn medic.

-- Hope this version is better than the previous one.


End file.
